There is no such thing as fate. The way one's life turns out is based on an arbitrary collection of events. An unintended meeting. A confrontation. A sneer. A smile. Sheer proximity to the other party. These things determine the course of your life.

You are twelve, and standing in the outskirts of impending disaster, examining the trajectory of a raging bear as you try to determine who it will maul. There are several parties about the small outdoor market, the one that is fairly close to the training grounds. You recognize people by their skills, not their appearances or genders. You are prepubescent, and a robot, after all.

The sharingan activates and revolves slowly. Time seems to slow down as well.

Naruto is directly facing the beast, his face contorted almost comically in an expression of horror. He is most likely to clash with the animal head-on. To the bear's side is the startled wind-user from Suna, who is apart from the confrontation, and yet in the way of the bear's gleaming claws. Sakura is a few feet behind, but outside of the bear's reach. Her grocery bag falls steadily as she exclaims and raises her arms. You finally take inventory of the Hyuuga, who is some steps beyond Naruto, only her back is fully turned.

You know that Naruto will be able to dodge, and if not, he will survive the hit. The wind-user is wearing a flak jacket, and smartly shifting her vitals. At the worst, the bear might detach her arm.

The Hyuuga is defenseless, and only just beginning to turn. In consequence, she is unintentionally exposing her throat. Her safety is dependent on how Naruto reacts. Would he clash with the bear or would he dodge, leaving the Hyuuga vulnerable? In that fleeting instant, you cannot tell. But if Naruto does dodge, the Hyuuga will be at a greater risk than the others.

Time returns to normal speed as you intrude the scenario. You catch the Hyuuga around the waist and pull her with you to the outskirts of the chaos. She hangs over your shoulder for the first time, gripping your shirt as she blinks in confusion. You set her down beside you and place your freed hand on your hip, to observe as Sakura's bag drops, and she is consumed in a cloud of flour. You bite your lip as the wind-user is slashed with the uncomfortable sound of flesh being scraped from bone. And as Naruto shakily crosses his forearms at his chest, to be bitten, pinned, and mauled.

Years later, you will ponder on the scenario again. You will wonder how you would have acted if Sakura had been in Temari's place. And you will wonder how badly Hinata could have been wounded if Naruto hadn't made the conscious decision not to dodge.

Interlude 1

Sasuke

You're fifteen, and having that dream again.

You're sprawled on the ground and some stranger is violently resuscitating—rather, they are torturing you. Their chakra is invasive, and burns through your lungs, and every second of it is excruciating. You wish the stranger would stop fucking abusing you. Why won't they leave you alone?

You are not yet Mirai Sasuke. You are fifteen-years-old and untarnished by time travel. You are Sasuke, the original. You, alone, decide the trajectory of your life.

It's a joint training session with team eight that evening. Naruto is matched against the weak Hyuuga. He's awkward and practically afraid to touch her. A fucking feeble-minded male.

Ino is planning her wedding, though Sakura notes that Ino and Hyuuga Neji have only had a single 2-minute date, during which Neji was not aware of his participation. Also, they're fifteen and sixteen respectively.

Shinobi marry young, you muse. They die young as well.

Sakura's hand grazes yours.

How do you feel about Sakura?

You know how you feel when her hand…touches your hand. Not the aggressive contact that you're used to from others, but a different type that you can't label. You suddenly know that you've been starved for it. But that is all that you really know.

You're trying to get some rest, but this ill-advised person is again resuscitating you in your dreams—rather, your nightmares. You wish you could tell them to stop. Sweet-smelling hair dances across your face. You feel delicate fingers, feminine fingers, with chakra that slams into your chest.

Your hand twitches.

You gasp awake and you're in bed. You draw your knees up and tremble.

There is no training today, just another mission, and you are excluded because of the seals. A member of team eight is left behind as well. You're both supposed to be training together, but the bug-user silently disappears into the foliage. You slink off behind a tree, and you're actually relieved for the privacy, because you finally have the chance to kill yourself. You pull out your tool of choice, debating between carotid and radial. And so keen, so furtively thrilled are you, that you don't notice the owner of trampling feet until they plow right into you.

Metal flashes, and flings to the ground. You raise yourself up, annoyed, then alarmed that it's the weak–-no, she will now be known as the blind Hyuuga.

She reddens, stammers, "S-sorry, S-Sasuke-kun." She picks up your weapon and hands it back to you, before she hurries off, through the gates, and you decide you hate her.